


Across Lifetimes

by audbooh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Historical, Immortality, Magic, Reincarnation, Suicide Attempt, Terminal Illnesses, this is just pure angst im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 12:32:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audbooh/pseuds/audbooh
Summary: "To die, and young, before unfaithful timedestroys the delicate and gentle crown;whilst life still tells us: I am yoursalthough we know so well it will betray us."Ben Solo is immortal, doomed to trudge through life. But when he meets Rey in a coffee shop, his entire life is upturned, and his secrets threaten to overwhelm him. Will he make it through the darkness, or will he succumb to it?





	Across Lifetimes

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to Tehanu for beta-ing, and to [red-applesith](https://red-applesith.tumblr.com/) for the [moodboard](https://auds-writing.tumblr.com/post/185398067425/across-lifetimes)

Immortality was boring.

 

Ben Solo knew this for a fact. He spent his days reliving the same things, over and over. He had tried everything. Been everywhere. He had been a good man, a sinner, and everything in between. Nothing surprised him. Nothing sparked that amazement.

 

Nothing could fill the aching emptiness in his heart. The one that had grown over time.

 

Living too long did a number on your soul.

 

So when Ben Solo walked into that coffee shop, he did not expect the pattern of his life to change. The coffee shop was buzzing with life, crowded and loud. Loud was good. If life was loud, it would drown out the emptiness in his head.

 

He stood in line, his suit sticking out against yoga pants and tired faces. Ben pulled at his tie, loosening it.

 

He shuffled forward, the line moving slowly as the people ordered. He took a peek at his phone, wishing he could hide in his broad shoulders. He could feel their stares, hear the whispers. At one time, he would have embraced it. Now, he wished it would all go away.

 

He stepped up to the register, his eyes downcast. The sounds of the coffee shop seemed overwhelming, that pit in his heart growing bigger by the second. His stomach rumbled. Maybe coffee was a bad idea.

 

"Excuse me, sir, can I take your order?" a voice said, lilted with a British accent. That voice... it was too familiar. Ben's heart started to race, like a jackhammer. His eyes slowly moved upwards, and he gasped.

 

The woman at the counter was maybe nineteen, with sparkling hazel eyes and dark brown hair tied up in three buns. Her name tag read Rey.

 

His hands were clammy with sweat, his face as pale as ice. It was her. Rey. She was here. Despite the time passed, her face was exactly how he remembered. Every freckle in place.

 

"Sir?" she asked, and he blinked once, then twice. His voice shook as he rattled off his order. She smiled at him, a fake smile, and he felt his entire world collapse.

 

"Thank you sir, that'll be..." her voice faded away as the sound of his heart pumping filled his ears. His hands were shaking, and he was almost certain he was close to collapse. White dotted in his vision. His fingers fumbled as he dropped crisp green dollars on the table, muttering "keep the change". He stepped out of line, his feet almost flying as he rushed towards the bathroom.

 

He dropped to his knees as soon as the stall door closed, vomiting out his breakfast. The sound of his retching was almost comforting in its familiarity, something that stayed the same even when his entire world was rocked.

 

He spat out the last of the bile, the taste lingering in his mouth. The sound of the toilet flushing rang in his ears.

 

Ben stared at himself in the bathroom's dirty mirror. The scrawls etched into the mirror traced his scar. He lifted a finger, brushing over it. Blood dotted his mouth and started to drip down his chin, along with a bit of bile. It was a ghastly sight, only strengthened by the dark circles under his eyes and his almost gaunt cheeks. He took a paper towel, soaking it in the cool water before rubbing it on his face. 

 

Rey. He took out his phone, looking at the date. February 25th. How many weeks left? Two? This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to see her again.

 

Ben put away his phone, a deep pit settling in his stomach. It was too late, he repeated in his mind. It was too late.

 

But the emptiness in his heart was starting to fade.

 

* * *

 

A crisp wind blew through the marketplace. Ben Solo stared at the people filling the small space He felt their gazes upon him. He felt... vulnerable.

 

When Ben Solo thought back to his childhood home, the eyes in the marketplace was always the first memory to shine through. He had been young, and brash, and s eemed to be everything the son of powerful parents should be . His father was a leader in their small town, often taking long trips to Athens to weigh in on important matters. But Ben knew that it was his mother who was the real political mind. His father was a wandering spirit, tied down into a life he didn't enjoy. The family home was tense at times, and Ben had felt unwelcome.

 

So when he was fed up, he left, searching for the mysterious wizard that had been a childhood story told around the fire.

 

It had been days, weeks, months until Ben had found him. He had travelled across unknown lands, finally arriving in the mountains far away from Greece. His parents had warned him, his village had warned him of the wizard, but, standing here, before the dark entrance to a cave, Ben's heart seemed to rush at the sight. He smiled, a wicked smile, before taking a step into the cave.

 

It was pitch black, and every step he took echoed in the cavern. Ben's stomach seemed to swallow the darkness, creating a pit of uncertainty.  _ What was he doing here? _ His hands started to shake.

 

"Do not be afraid, young Solo," a voice crackled, almost like lightning, sparking fear in Ben. He froze, not daring to take another step. His breath warmed the air, mist billowing out of his mouth.

 

"Hello?" Ben's voice was shaky, childish. He had come here of his own accord. He should not be afraid.

 

"Yes," the voice drawled, "do not be afraid. Come closer to the fire, young man, and tell me your desire." Warm flames danced on the walls of the cavern, leading Ben to the wizard.

 

Golden robes draped from the wrinkled, withered body of the wizard. If Ben were a lesser man, he would have been  _ horrified  _ at the wizard's appearance. His beady eyes seemed to stare into Ben's soul.

 

"I want power," Ben stated, growing more confident. 

 

The wizard grinned, a ghastly sight. "I shall give you the power to live forever if you so desire." 

 

Ben nodded.

 

The wizard had a gleam in his eye when he placed his wrinkled hand on Ben's forehead. He whispered words in a language that Ben had never heard of. The palm of the wizard upon his forehead felt sickly, perverse. Ben fought against the need to jump away, to shiver in disgust. The wizard continued to speak in a low voice, the language guttural and spitting. 

 

It sounded like death.

 

Energy seemed to flow from the wizard's hand, seeping into Ben. It felt like dreams and hopes and darkness and blinding pain and a sweet summer's touch and the cries of a newborn babe and the last breath of an elder and everything in between. Ben gasped, reeling from the newfound power flowing through his veins. It was almost as if he could feel it on his skin, making the hairs on his arms and neck stand up. His muscles tensed, and his eyes sharpened. Pain shot through his face, almost like a sword cutting through the skin. It bolted through him, and when he lightly touched it he felt a scar. He felt... power. Power, pure prowess coursing through his veins. He started to laugh as he took a step back, more out of shock than joy. His fingers shook, and he stared at them as if they were foreign entities attached to him. His laughing grew, more and more, until he ran out of breath.

 

Ben's shocked smile was frozen on his face. He felt stronger, smarter, faster. He was the pinnacle of health, of logic, of everything. He was the perfect human specimen, more than perfect. 

 

He felt...  _ alive. _

 

* * *

 

The crisp autumn winds made Ben shiver in his cloak. He looked around at the marketplace, so similar to the one in his hometown. A few years had passed since the night he gained his power. He had risen to be a pedestal in his community, his new community. It felt _... right... _ to be a figure of power. A societal acknowledgement of his raw strength.

 

He perused the stalls, smiling slightly as he weighed a couple of fruit in his hands. As he placed the fruit back, a woman rushed past him, almost making him trip. She turned towards him, her mouth half-open as she caught his gaze. 

 

And the world slowed around him.

 

He had never believed in love. Not after his parents, and their constant bickering. Then, he had pushed away everyone, too concentrated on his rise to power to care for someone else. 

 

He was fascinated by the way her hair caught in the sunlight. The shade from the stalls and her clothing streaked the right side of her hair, and he could see that it was a dark brown. But when her hair caught the light, it shimmered, turning as golden as the sun. His breath was stolen from him, his lungs emptying at the sight of her.

 

Freckles lined her pale nose, sprinkling her round yet defined cheeks. Her eyes shone, flecks of green mixed with a warm brown. Her pink lips were parted slightly, showing off pearly white teeth. 

 

"Sorry," she was saying, "I wasn't looking where I was going, and if I don't get home in time, I won't be able to make supper, and my master will be so furious..." she stuttered onward, embarrassed that a simple peasant had run into a noble of his standing. He waved away her apologies.

 

"It's okay. My name is Ben. What's yours?" She smiled a soft, yet secretive smile.

 

"Rey."

 

* * *

 

Rain poured down, beating down on him. His commander shouted orders, barely audible over the howling wind. Ben turned around, watching as his fellow soldiers fell beside him, killed beside him, fought beside him. His eyes zeroed in on an enemy, an older man with bloodthirsty eyes. Confidence shot through Ben, and he smiled as he rushed towards the opponent.

 

The man never saw the sword in his belly coming. He collapsed, choking out his last breath. Ben pushed the man off of his sword, that deep darkness in his soul flaring. 

 

A tiny part of him whispered that Rey wouldn't be proud of the darkness. Rey would remind him that these men are just that. _ Men.  _ Fighting for what they believe in.

 

But in the chaos, the wind and rain and shouts and blood, Rey's voice was drowned out. And there was only the deep darkness, coiling, ready to strike. 

 

Ben fought his way through the army. His fellow soldiers watched with awe as he dominated the battlefield. He was crazed with bloodlust, his vision turning red.  He felt more alive with each kill, freed from the ties of society.

 

He was  _ drunk _ with power and he was loving it. 

 

He was on the edge of the cliff, fending off dozens of soldiers at a time. The opposite side had abandoned the other soldiers, concentrating their efforts on killing the seemingly-invincible Ben Solo. A smile was glued to his face as he faced off against them. It was easy, too easy. It gave him time to think.

 

Rey's face flashed in his vision, her eyes wet with tears, blood speckled across her forehead.  _ "Ben, _ " she whispered, her voice filled with horror. He froze. Which was his last mistake.

 

Ben lost his footing, fear shooting through him as he fell backwards. His body twisted through the air, plummeting to the ocean. His stomach seized up, his eyes widened, his body tensed as he tumbled through the air. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He couldn't speak, couldn't scream, couldn't breathe, couldn't think.  _ All he could do was fall. _

 

Then his body hit the ocean.

 

* * *

 

The sun was peeking over the horizon as Ben pulled up to the coffee shop. He had stared into the mirror, trying to convince himself to skip this part of his routine today. But instead, here he was.

 

He got out of the car, his steps somehow both hesitant and sure as he walked into the coffee shop. The beep of the car as it locked barely reached his ears.

 

His eyes scanned the shop, searching for her. But she wasn't anywhere to be found. His heart dropped, and he slid into a seat, all of his newfound energy draining out of him. 

 

He should've known better than to search for her. He had gone down this road many times before. And it always ended in tragedy. He cast his eyes downward, lost in his thoughts.

 

A person slid into the seat opposite him, hand folded neatly on the table. His stomach clenched, rocking as it usually did in the morning. His hands were clammy and shaking, and his body ached. He should've stayed home, and rested. Instead, he was here, searching for a dream.

 

"Hey," a British voice said, and Ben's heart stopped in his chest. He looked up, and there she was, shining brightly in his vision. He was almost convinced she was a dream. A beautiful, shining dream. But she was real.

 

"Hey," his voice cracked like a teenager. Rey smiled, a beam of light. "W-what are you doing here?" What was she doing here? He felt stupid, his face burning red. She worked here, of course, she was here. He supposed he wanted to say  _ "why are you talking to me?" _ but that was bordering on rude. Or was it? It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to her. It was just that —

 

_ Stop. Calm down, Ben.  _

 

"I'm off-duty, actually. But I forgot my jacket, so I came to pick it up." Rey answered his stuttering query without hesitation. He stared into her brown-green eyes, already half in love with her. 

 

"Hi," she started, echoing his first meeting with her, "I'm Rey." His heart was hammering in his chest and his hands were sweaty and his stomach was twisting and it had nothing to do with sickness.

 

"Hi. I'm Ben," he replied, smiling for the first time in weeks. 

 

* * *

 

He opened his eyes, breathing in deeply. His lungs choked, straining, filled with water. His eyes stung from salt. He couldn't  _ breathe.  _

 

With what little strength he had, he pulled himself upwards, the glimmering moon just above his reach. He finally broke above the waves, his chest heaving as he hacked up the water in his lungs. 

 

The beach was only a few strokes away. But every movement felt like agony, every breath a struggle. He finally felt sand beneath his toes, and he collapsed onto the grit, breathing heavily. His entire body ached, leaving him unable to do anything.

 

He soon figured out why. His chest was bruised and bloody, and there were certain points where it seemed the bones were broken. He turned over onto his back, his body screaming at him.

 

The moon glowed and shimmered, giving him a point of focus as he calmed his body down. It felt like years, decades, millennium before he could breathe normally again.

 

_ How long had he been drifting in the water? _ He couldn't see the cliff where he had fallen, only rolling hills and forests. He should've been dead.  _ How was he alive?  _ He should've choked on water, his body forever floating in the ocean.

 

But he was alive. He was alive. He laughed, pain shooting through him. He relaxed his body, letting the pain ebb and fade. He had to get up.  _ He had to get up. _

 

He struggled to his feet, his body protesting every move. Blood seeped from his nose, and when he felt it, pain bloomed. It must've been broken.

 

_ Like the rest of you, _ a voice whispered, as clear as if they were standing next to him, _ you're a broken man, Ben Solo. _

 

He shook his head slightly, waving away the whispers. His eyes zeroed in on the forest, and he limped in that direction, needing to find his way home.

 

* * *

 

Everything was empty.

 

The once-flourishing village where he and Rey had settled was a ghost town. Roofs were splintering apart, vines covered the fountain in the town square, and the only sound was the wind and his own footsteps. Ben held his side as he stumbled through the village, searching for something, anything. 

 

The first sign was the fountain. It was still, with red water reflecting his own face. His eyes widened, recognising the red as blood.

 

Ben rushed to his home on the outskirts of town, his feet carrying him faster than he could think. He spotted the small hut he shared with Rey, covered in ivy and stained with blood.

 

The door cracked under his strength, tumbling to the ground. Ben's eyes rested on Rey's body, lying limp, with blood dried on her chin.

 

He collapsed next to her, his eyes filling with tears. His body started to shake, and he let out an inhuman scream. A scream of pure agony, of pain, of darkness.

 

She was dead.

 

* * *

 

The keys jingled as he threw them onto the table. A small tingle on the edge of his forehead warned Ben of an upcoming headache. His fingers twitched as he shakily pulled an orange bottle out of a drawer. Pulling out a single pill, Ben steadied himself as he swallowed the pill. The relief was not immediate, but as he sunk onto the floor it slowly started to take effect.

 

He breathed out, a sigh escaping him. It was too much stress, meeting Rey. But he couldn't resist meeting her again.

 

Ben pulled out his phone, looking at the contact labelled "Rey". He never thought he would have her number in his phone. He never thought he would see her again.

 

_ How long had it been? A century?  _ He still remembered her expression. It was always clear in his mind. He could make a thousand paintings of it.

 

_ Horror. Surprise. Acceptance. Love. Nothing. _

 

He closed his eyes, letting the memory wash over him. Something wet rolled down his face, and he opened his eyes, wiping the tear away. Ben stared at his hands, shaking and twitching. He thought of Rey, her eyes shining as she talked with him in that coffee shop for hours.

 

He hiccuped out a sob, the tears starting to flow. He leaned against the wall, the wood floor digging into his bottom as he pulled up his knees. Burying his face in his knees, he wrapped his arms around himself as he started to sob.

 

_ How many times had he sat on floors just like these, faced with his future, and broken down crying? _ Too many. The future was bleak, unknown. His future was written in stone. His future was dead.

 

He laid down on the cool panelling, his fingers tracing the lines in the wood. Tears slipped down his face, hitting the panels. He sighed deeply, letting go of his restraint. There was nothing left for him here.

 

He stared at his phone, those three letters staring him in the face. His eyes twitched, a headache forming, a result of the crying. A burst of rage swallowed him whole, and he threw his phone across the room, curling back into a ball.

 

The phone lay there, the broken glass like blood on the panelling.

 

* * *

 

Ben leaned against the wall, watching the people spin around, the ballroom filled with the sound of heartfelt violins. Ben crossed his arms, the sounds of people laughing almost overwhelming.  _ How long has it been since he was happy? So long… _

 

A woman approached him, blue eyes shining as she smiled at him. "May I dance with you, sir Solo?" His heart was stone.  _ When was the last time he danced?  _ With Rey, he thought, in the town square. Ten years ago, maybe. Or twelve. He's lost count. 

 

"If you insist," he replied, his voice ice. The woman, not a woman, but a girl, looked vaguely alarmed at his nonchalance. But she quickly covered it with a smile. She must be the daughter of a politician or the like. He offered a hand, and she took it as he led her to the dance floor.

 

She moved with a sensuality he was used to seeing on women who threw themselves at him. If he hadn't met Rey, he might've gone along with it, maybe taking her home. But his heart was locked, and she would never have the key.

 

As they swirled around, Ben caught sight of brown hair glittering in the candlelight. He froze, recognising those strands. The girl dancing with him tripped. 

 

No. It couldn't be.  _ How was it possible that Rey was only a few feet from him, as beautiful as the day he met her? _

 

"Excuse me," he mumbled, letting go of the woman and making his way towards Rey. His heart was pounding a million miles a minute, and he swore he was going to collapse. But he kept moving, his feet carrying him when  _ he could not think. _

 

"Rey?" Ben breathed out, his voice shaking slightly. She turned towards him, and he gasped. Her eyebrows raised, but there was still the smile that he knew so well on her face.

 

"I'm sorry, sir, do I know you?" she asked, and his heart crumbled.

 

_ How? _ She looked... so young. She should've been as old as him, with the beginning of lines on her face. But she still had the youthful vigour of a teenager.

 

_ "Is it you?" _ he whispered, unable to say anything else. Her smile dropped, turning into concern.

 

"Are you okay, sir?"  _ Stop calling him that!  _ He was Ben, always Ben to her. "Are you with anybody?"

 

"Rey." It seemed he was unable to say anything but her name, like a prayer. In the back of his mind, he was aware of the people near them watching, but he didn't care. All he saw was Rey.

 

"How do you know my name, sir?" He was going to explode if she kept calling him that. He was going to collapse to the floor. He was…

 

His body straightened up without his permission. His mouth opened, and words spilt out, words that didn't seem to be his own, but he said them anyway.

 

"I am sorry for bothering you, miss." He stepped away, his feet moving him when his brain could not. He fled the ballroom, all thinking suspended.

 

* * *

 

This cave was different from the ones where the wizard had resided before.

 

The sound of the crashing waterfalls roared in Ben's ears as he trekked down the cliff. He didn't know how he always knew where the wizard was. Ben would close his eyes, and the wizard would be there, pointing him in the right direction.

 

The walls of the cave were wet, and the ground squelched with every step. This place was unlivable. It made sense that Ben would find the wizard in a place where no soul dared tread.

 

"Wizard!" Ben called out, his voice mixed with anger. He had spent two months finding this place, travelling across the country. But he had questions, and they needed answers.

 

"Come closer, young Solo," the wizard's voice seemed to be right next to his ear. Ben peered into the darkness and saw the outline of the wizard, hunched and ugly.

 

Ben approached the wizard confidently. Evil seemed to permeate the air, making Ben's muscles tense.

 

"I demand answers," he said, and the wizard chuckled, a laugh that seemed to pierce Ben's skin. 

 

"I expected no less from you. What is it you desire?"

 

"How is Rey alive? She died, I held her body. How is she alive, younger than when I last saw her? How is it that she doesn't remember me?" The questions seemed to spill from his mouth, something which he no longer had control over.

 

"You have been tied to her. I felt her potential, as I felt yours. Your souls are linked. But she did not listen to my call. Therefore, she dies. But she cannot leave this earth, so she becomes an infant once again, doomed to live as long as you do."

 

Ben's heart seemed to stop. She would repeat life, forever, unless he died. Which was impossible. Not for lack of trying. 

 

"No," he whispered. His body tensed, and he felt like he was going to vomit. Without knowing it, Ben had cursed Rey.

 

"I'm sorry,” Ben whispered to himself, wishing the words would somehow reach Rey. 

 

* * *

 

With every ring, Ben felt his heart hammer. He stared at his new phone, his hands shaking.  _ Why in the world did he decide to do this? _ He shouldn't have even accepted her number. And here he was, calling her only a few days after they met. They hadn't even texted yet.

 

"Hello?" Rey's voice came out of the small speakers, and Ben's heart stopped.

 

"Hi," he started, "I know that it's only been a few days — "

 

"It's okay." Rey's voice was rushed on the other side of the line. 

 

"I... I've been..." Ben hesitated, unsure what to say. For a minute, they sat in silence, the only sound was their shared breathing.

 

"I'm glad you called. I've... been having a bad day. I tracked down the orphanage that my foster parent found me. They don't have any records from my birth parents. I... I've never felt so alone."

 

_ "You're not alone." _ The words came out of Ben's mouth before he could stop them. He's heard this story dozens of times, across all the centuries. But something in Rey's voice reached him.

 

There was a beat of silence, and for a moment Ben wondered if he was too eager.

 

_ "Neither are you,"  _ Rey finally said, and Ben's heart started to race.

 

"I feel this connection to you," Rey continued. "It's like I've known you all of my life."

 

"I know," Ben replied. He was in over his head. He couldn't explain anything to her. He couldn't. And yet, he wanted to. So badly. He wanted to say that he knew her like nobody else. But he couldn't.

 

So instead he changed the subject. And he tried to forget that sinking feeling in his stomach that told him how wrong he was.

 

* * *

 

The misty air only amplified his dark mood. Ben wrapped his arms around him as he moved through the dark alleys, keeping a careful watch on the people around him. He made his way to an alley with a sign above it, flashing the words  _ First Order  _ in bright red neon.

 

Ben looked around, making sure that nobody was following him. He pushed open the nondescript door, grunting with effort. It was not particularly heavy, but for him, it felt like pushing a rock up a mountain.

 

He had woken up in the middle of the night, his hands shaking beyond reason and his stomach swirling and pulsing. He had spent a few minutes bent over a toilet, then washed away the taste in his mouth, only to be interrupted by a splitting headache that made it impossible to move. As he laid there on the floor, he thought about Rey.

 

It wasn't fair to her. It wasn't fair. He couldn't talk to her. Couldn't get her hopes up. He had done that too many times, escaped from the world, burying reality deep inside himself as he held her in his arms. 

 

"I haven't seen you for a  _ long  _ time, Mr Ren," a voice said, the British accent masking the whine. Ben sighed, taking a deep breath.  _ Steady there, Ben. _

 

"Hello, Mr Hux," Ben replied, walking up to the front desk. A man sat behind the desk, with a disdainful expression on his face. The bright orange of the man's hair contrasted with the dilapidated hotel surroundings. Or ex-hotel. Ben didn't know what the building was used for and he didn't ask.

 

"I have to say, I was surprised when I got your text. Has it really been two years?" Hux's smile was sinister, and it made Ben's spine crawl. 

 

"It has," Ben said, growing impatient.

 

"And the instructions you gave me," Hux tsked, "so boring. I was hoping you'd — "

 

"Did you ready the room or not, Armitage?" Ben snapped, and Hux narrowed his eyes.

 

"Yes, _ Kylo,  _ the room is ready. Number five, as always." Ben nodded his thanks and walked past the front desk.

 

Doors lined the hallway, each with their own secrets. As Ben walked down the hallway, he thought about the stories the doors could tell. The people who had walked through those doors, and whether they were ever seen again.

 

He doubted it.

 

Ben finally found number five. It was the same as all of the other doors, silent and strong. His hand lightly traced the number, feeling the cool metal against his skin. Fear washed over him, demanding his attention. His lips started to tremble, and his vision blurred.

 

_ What was he doing here? How many times had he seen this door, walked through it?  _ It never worked. He never got the peace he so desperately wanted.

 

But he couldn't keep living like this. If he was to fade away, it would be on his own terms. A defiance of the fate that the wizard had written for him.

 

He wiped away his tears, opening the door. A new fire had sparked inside him, a fire that he would not let be washed away. 

 

The room was covered in plastic sheets. There was a singular duffle bag on the farthest bed, the only object in the room not covered. Ben took off his coat, gently laying it on the nearest bed. It crinkled as it touched the plastic sheets.

 

Ben approached the duffle bag, his heart racing. Even after all of this time, it was still bloodcurdling to see that black bag. Ben breathed in and out, then zipped the bag open.

A silver revolver sat in the bag, glistening and polished. Ben's fingers shook as he picked it up, feeling the weight in his hands. He closed his eyes, letting the metal cool his feverish skin.

Hazel eyes flashed in his head. He smiled as he lost himself in the memory, feeling a deep peace settle within him. He opened his eyes, glancing at the revolver. Tears welled in his eyes once again.

 

He'd lost everything when he surrendered to his darker impulses. When he had reached out to the wizard, and let him steal his soul.

 

He'd lost it all. He'd lost his chance to live when he gained his immortality. The mistakes he'd made when he was young haunted him, following him like a shadow. For decades, centuries, he had been trying to find a way to escape.

 

Maybe this was for the best.

 

He shouldn't have gotten close to her. It would only make this more painful. She wouldn't understand. He couldn't explain it. But when he saw her in that coffee shop, he couldn't resist. She was a star, and he was a planet. She was his light, guiding him to his destiny.

 

Before he could think anymore, Ben cocked the revolver, aimed it at his head, and pulled the trigger.

 

* * *

 

The bright light of early morning danced on her skin. He laid next to her, silently observing. She shifted in the bed, just starting to wake up.

 

"Hey," he whispered, and she turned to face him, smiling. He leaned down, and their lips met. A perfect fit.

 

"Hey," she whispered back, sitting up. He leaned against her, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

 

"I love you," he said abruptly, needing to get it out. 

 

"I love you too," she replied, wrapping her arms around him.

 

* * *

 

Ben twisted his hands together as he waited for the doctor. He hadn't wanted to come. He had pleaded with Rey to let him be. But she had insisted, after weeks spent in agony.

 

"You're suffering, my love," she had whispered. "Please, for my sake."

 

So here he was. He looked at the calendar on the wall. 1823. He had lived a very long time.  _ Almost too long, _ a voice whispered in his head.

 

"Benjamin Solo?" He stood up, walking into the doctor's office. His heart hammered. Sweat seemed to pour out of him. He felt dizzy, weak. His head swam.

 

He was scared.

  
  


"How did it go?" Rey's eyes watched him collapse against the furniture. He couldn't seem to speak, to do anything but stare at Rey with pleading eyes, all strength sapped away. 

 

Rey dropped the hopeful expression; she sat next to him, leaning against him.

 

"Ben..." she whispered, and it was the last straw. Tears started to flow from his eyes as he sobbed. Rey wrapped her arms around him, cradling him. It felt like years before the tears ebbed.

 

"I'm dying," he breathed. Ben closed his eyes, pretending not to hear Rey's quiet cries.

 

* * *

 

"You lied to me," Ben seethed at the wizard, body bristling with anger. 

 

"You humans," the wizard replied, calm and collected. It had taken too long to find the wizard, nestled away in the mountains of Russia. "You are too emotional. I've done nothing of the sort."

 

"You said I was immortal! That I would live forever. I'm dying.  _ You lied to me,"  _ Ben's voice cracked, and the wizard finally turned to face him.

 

"It will be amusing to watch you decay into dust. You've failed me, young Solo. You've become obsessed with the girl, you've forgotten your true purpose. You were supposed to be the ruler of the earth. Instead, you've become a pathetic weakling." The wizard's cold eyes seemed to strike Ben's very soul.

 

"When?" Ben almost whispered. The wizard, for the first time, looked... confused.

 

"Speak up, boy!" 

 

"When will I die? You owe me that."

 

"I owe you nothing of — "

 

"Tell me!" Ben yelled, eyes glaring. The wizard paused for a moment as if lost in thought.

 

"Early March of the year 2019." 

 

"Thank you."

 

* * *

 

The first thing Ben noticed when he regained consciousness was the warmth of a hand on his.

 

The pain in his head was worse than he had ever experienced.

 

_ It must be the end, _ he thought to himself. Fear struck him, but he willed it away. He couldn't dwell on that now.

 

It took a few more minutes for him to muster up the strength to open his eyes. The bright light of the hospital room was blinding, and he quickly closed them again. 

 

_ Who was breathing near him? _ It sounded calming. For a minute, he imagined he was back in Greece, lazily dozing next to Rey.

 

_ Blood on his hands, on his face. Her shocked expression as she clutched onto him. Fear. Shock. Acceptance. Love. _

 

He had dug his own grave long ago.

 

The beeping of the machines helped him count the minutes. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. He steadied his erratic heart by counting the beeps. He listened to the breathing. He let himself fall back asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Gunshots echoed through the alleyway.

 

And Ben was having trouble breathing.

 

He looked to his right, watching as a bullet tore through Roz. There was laughing on the other side, laughing that seemed to pierce his soul. His vision was dotted with white, and his lungs heaved with every breath.

 

He shouldn't have come today, should've known that his traitorous body would betray him. But he couldn't abandon the gang he had grown close to these past years. They helped him forget that he was dying.

 

Rey hadn't wanted him to join a gang in the first place. When she realised he wouldn't leave, she just stared at him with tears in her eyes. But she said nothing. 

 

He loved her so much. But sometimes, she treated him like he could do nothing. He wasn't dead yet.

 

And sometimes, that whisper in his head goaded him on, persuading him to give in to his darker urges. 

 

Ben peeked over the wagon he was using as a cover, eyeing two of his opponents. He aimed the revolver at them, firing two shots. They went down, collapsing onto the pavement.

 

Ben inhaled air, leaning against the wagon for support. He glanced around, counting the dead bodies. Too many. They should've never aggravated the rival gang. 

 

All he could concentrate on was breathing. In and out. Air rushing through his lungs. He coughed, once, then twice. Ben couldn't hear any more gunshots.  _ Was it over? Or were they reloading, regrouping for another wave?  _ A train chugged by on an elevated track. He remembered the first time he rode a train, back in 1830. It was only a few years before he met Rey. Before his diagnosis…

 

Ben saw a figure in the distance, wrapped in the colours of the rival gang. His muscles tensed, head spinning. He could barely think, but he raised his gun anyways. The figure threw up their hands just as Ben fired the gun. 

 

It was a clean shot, barely missing the heart, piercing the lungs. The figure stumbled, feet taking a step forward into the light.

 

And then Ben froze. Because it was _ Rey _ , eyes wide in shock and fear. His feet moved without thinking, and he was running towards her.

 

"Rey!" His voice sounded far away, broken and raspy. He caught her as she collapsed, brushing away bloodstained hair as she shivered, trying to breathe.

 

" _ Rey... _ " he whispered, bloodcurdling fear shooting through him. Her eyes were trained on him, filled with horror. They seemed to be saying  _ "how could you do this to me? I love you. And you've killed me." _

 

"Rey I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I love you. I'm sorry. Don't leave me. Please don't leave me sweetheart. I love you." The words tumbled out of his mouth, shaky and cracked. Rey shuddered, her body wracked with pain. He knew what it was like to be shot. To be killed. 

But not like this.  _ Please, not like this. _

 

Rey's shaking hand rose toward him, cradling his cheek. He held it there, tears flowing. Her eyes filled with love. They were saying  _ "I love you." _

 

Then they grew silent.

 

Rey's hand grew slack, her body lifeless. Ben gripped her tighter as if he could breathe life back into her body with his touch. But she continued to lay there, nothing behind her eyes anymore.

 

Ben sobbed, clutching Rey's body. He screamed, sobbed, cried, trembled until he could no longer make a sound.

 

His eyes caught the glisten of the bloody revolver. It almost seemed to taunt him, to tell him that he did this, he killed his only love.

 

Ben acted without thinking. He grabbed the revolver, aimed it at his head, and pulled the trigger.

 

* * *

 

Ben shot up, gasping and clutching at his head. There was a small headache, but nothing more. He was in a small apartment filled with small trinkets and furniture for a larger family. There was a middle-aged woman in the kitchen, washing something in the sink. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was…

 

"Rey!" Ben shouted, trying to move. Pain bloomed from the side of his head, and he clawed at it, groaning. The woman turned towards him, and she rushed towards him, pushing him back onto the bed.

 

"Rest, boy. You almost died." Her voice was stern but sweet, almost motherly. He struggled against her grip, but his tired body gave in soon after. Her hand rested against his forehead, then picked at the side of his head. She tsked.

 

"You've opened your wound again. Stay still." The woman walked back towards the kitchen. Ben closed his eyes, then opened them, staring at the worn ceiling. 

 

"What happened?" Ben's voice was cracked from disuse, "Where am I?" The woman was at his bedside again, rubbing a stinging salve onto his head.

 

"I found you in the street, almost dead. I brought you to my home so you would not die. I've no idea how you survived a bullet to the head, but I certainly wasn't going to let you die on my watch." Ben met the woman's gaze, then pulled away, a tear rolling down his cheek.

 

"What happened to her?" he whispered. The woman paused, and her voice seemed gentle with her next words.

 

"They took her body to the memorial nearby. If you want, you can pay for her burial." 

 

Ben closed his eyes, his heart twinged in pain. "Thank you," Ben said, and the woman smiled at him. 

 

"Of course."

 

* * *

 

It took Ben two weeks to be able to leave the woman's house. Her children would stare at him with wide eyes until she shooed them away. He thanked her when he left, promising to pay her back for her hospitality. She had hugged him quickly at her doorstep, whispering to stay safe and care for himself. 

 

He had murmured a noncommittal reply.  _ After all, how could he care for himself when he had been the one to fire the gun into Rey's chest?  _

 

Ben sold the house that they had shared, instead deciding to move into a smaller apartment. As he watched Rey's body be commemorated in the ground, he had promised himself that he would never find Rey again. He would stay away until his body shut down and he passed.

 

He wouldn't allow himself to get close to her. Never again.

 

* * *

 

Ben opened his eyes, staring at the bright ceiling of the hospital. He blinked once, then twice. Hux must've dropped him off here, as per their agreement. 

 

He hated hospitals. They were only a reminder of his inevitable death. They were sterile, clean, empty of feeling. He never wanted to be in a hospital again. He coughed, his body shaking with the effort. The splitting headache that was common these days made itself known. It looked like he wouldn't be here long.

 

"Ben?" a soft voice said, and he turned his head to see Rey. His heart hammered.  _ What was she doing here? _

 

"What are you doing here?" he asked. She grasped his hand, rubbing her thumb in circles.

 

"They called me. I was the only contact in your phone that the hospital could get ahold of. You had no emergency contacts. What happened, Ben?" Her beautiful hazel eyes were filled with concern.

 

"What day is it?" He had to know. 

 

"It's March tenth. Why?" No wonder he felt so weak. He was going to die today. He knew it. He could feel it, in the rattle of his bones, in the rasp of his lungs, in the trembling beating of his heart.

 

"I have something to confess," Ben said, not quite able to believe what he was going to say. But Rey had no judgement in her voice, and he had to tell her before he passed.

 

"What?"

 

Ben took a deep breath, gripping Rey's hand.

 

* * *

 

The cars on the highway seemed to move in slow motion as they drove. Rey kept glancing back at Ben, then back at the road.

 

"Where are we going?" she asked, though she already seemed to know.

 

"My grave," Ben answered, and they both grew silent. 

 

She hadn't believed him at first. When he told her the truth. But as he continued to explain, something had taken root in her eyes, spreading through her like vines. When he had finished his story, she told hers.

 

She had grown up in an orphanage, like so many Reys before her. She explained that she had always felt empty, like she was stretched across the stars. Her dreams were filled with the past, of many different lifetimes. Then, when she met him, everything seemed to fit. He was like the dark-haired man in her dreams. He even had the same scar across his face. 

 

She had dreams of him dying, of her dying. She had dreams of them living. She had dreams of a wrinkled face in the darkness, goading her to join him. But she never did. 

 

Rey pulled into the driveway, putting the car into park. She got out, and Ben watched as she walked around the car to open the passenger door. The salty air hit him like a brick, and he inhaled the smell of the ocean.

 

She wrapped her arms around him, lifting him. Ben leaned on Rey for support, his legs shaking. 

 

"Do you want to go into the house?" Rey asked. He shook his head, pointing towards the sandy, private beach.

 

"I want to feel the ocean," he said. Rey's eyes were filled with a pang of sadness.  _ For lost chances, maybe? _ Ben didn't dare ask.

 

The walk to the shore was a long one. There were moments where he had to sit down and catch his breath. He could barely stand. But he was determined to make it.

 

He remembered a time, all those years ago when his body had crashed against the water. His first death was to water. He chuckled to himself. His last death would be to water as well.

 

Ben's hands gripped sand as he collapsed against the beach. The waves licked his fingers, inviting him to join them. He smiled, watching as the sun started to colour the clouds a deep crimson, sprinkled with a bright yellow.

 

Rey held him as he stared into the deep waves. Ben knew that he should've felt terrified, but all he felt was tired.

 

"Thank you," he rasped, and Rey squeezed him tighter. 

 

"I..." Rey trailed off. Ben turned towards her, a sad smile on his face.

 

"It's okay."

 

He looked to the ocean again, then back at Rey. She was a beam of light on his dark life. He loved her more than he could love anything. He had loved her across lifetimes.

 

Maybe he would see her again, in another life.

 

Ben's last vision was of Rey, the light caught in her hair as the sun set across the glittering ocean.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to Tehanu once again, for helping me weave this story. Despite this taking six months to complete, she never hesitated to give advice.
> 
> Thank you to my sister, for the spark that lit this story aflame.
> 
> and thank you to my readers, for reading this. I know I haven't been writing much, but it means a lot that you all support me.
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/auds-writing)


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